It's Been a While
by edwardandbella4evah
Summary: The last thing Duncan expected was her help to get him out of two more years of prison. The last thing Courtney expected was to fall for him again.
1. Chapter 1

The waffles weren't soggy today.

Duncan detected a hint of crunch as he bit into his, savoring the taste of adequately prepared food, wishing he at least had some syrup. Decent waffles predicted a good day, or so he had conditioned himself to believe. The last time the waffles were decent, he'd found his favorite flavor at chips available at commissary, and the time before that, a corrections officer snuck him a cigarette. In prison, Duncan had learned to savor the simple pleasures, and crunchy waffles meant that another was about to come.

He tore the waffle into smaller pieces, wanting to let the little victory last for as long as possible, contemplating on what would make today a little better. Maybe the television would be free for once, and Duncan would be able to choose what to watch. Or maybe they'd finally gotten a new set of dumbbells and replaced the crappy, worn out set from the eighties. Or maybe…

"Yo, Duncan. Gonna finish your waffle?" Duncan snapped back quick enough to yank his tray away from grasping hands.

"Nice try, Jed. Can't you see I'm eating?" he snapped, glaring at the inmate who took a seat across from him.

"You weren't eating. You were tearin' it to pieces, and the waffles are too damn good to let you waste them like that," Jed said with a chuckle, stabbing at his eggs.

"They ain't that good," Duncan muttered, pushing his eggs around on his tray. You'd think the waffles were made by Aunt Jemima herself the way Jed talked about them, not like the frozen shit they were. "But today, they're decent."

"Everything's decent when you're hungry," Jed countered, stuffing the rest of his waffle into his mouth.

"Ain't that the truth," Duncan agreed, but he knew it wasn't true. Even starving, he wouldn't jump to eat the government issued slop served here. He ate the rest of the waffle, and tried to stomach some eggs before he tossed his silverware on his tray and nodded to Jed. "I'm out. If I'm late to work again, the assistant warden said he'd personally assign my dad to work here, and trust me, I'm doing you all a favor," he muttered, throwing up a hand as he walked away, not waiting for Jed's response.

Duncan actually didn't mind his job in the days he didn't particularly feel like killing himself. His good behavior had allowed him to work at the commissary, and even he could admit that it was much better than being on janitorial duty, or worse, kitchen duty. He was not a housekeeper, and he did not intend to pick up after other people's shit, or prepare their food.

He nods to the correction officer on duty by the commissary, and quickly takes inventory to see if his good day had started yet. Nothing seemed to be new or unusual, so he sighs and takes a seat, opening the window to reveal a small line of inmates.

The first inmate in line has a tattoo of a piranha on his chest. Three years ago he might have laughed, or poked fun at the man. Now he knew better. "Whaddya want?"

"A twix bar, and a deck of cards."

"You going to start a round of poker tonight in your bunk tonight?" The man grunts in response and Duncan enters in the inmate's information into the system, and once the money is deducted he grabs the items from the back and hands them over. "I'll be there at seven."

The inmate nods, grabs his items, and leaves. Duncan beckons to the next man in line, who requests a toothbrush, but doesn't have enough money in his account. The officer beside him tenses, ready to attack if the inmate gets physical, but there's no need. He looks at Duncan and calmly apologizes before leaving to get out of line. Duncan's hand itches to grab the toothbrush and stick it in his pocket and give it to the man later, but he knows it's too risky. He'll just grab one of the fifty he keeps under his mattress and give it to him eventually.

Too soon, the clock reaches two thirty, and the officer puts a hand on Duncan's shoulder, letting him know that he's done for the day. Duncan gets up and pops his back before deciding to head to the gym. Might as well check to see if they had replaced the dumbbells.

Unfortunately, the dumbbells were not the good fortune the waffles had brought that day, and Duncan had to make due with what there was. He did his usual set of reps, and decided that he would go for a run after, to clear his head. It was getting warmer, so he wouldn't freeze his ass off outside, but the air was still crisp enough to send a cold sweat down his spine.

He was lucky not to be in a maximum security prison. Mclean could have had him locked up forever if he cared to, and Duncan might have rotted away the rest of his pathetic life in a prison cell. Luckily for him, his parents were police officers, they hired a decent lawyer, and Chris didn't give a rat's ass about him, so he found himself serving five years in minimum security. He was also lucky that his mother fought so hard to get him a trial at all, and he was lucky that he had experience in juvy so he knew some of the rules around the prison.

He was lucky for a lot of reasons.

Gwen used to visit him when he was first locked up. Mainly to yell at him, shake her head, and call him an idiot. Once she got past the niceties, she would keep him from going insane, and tell him all about the world outside, and her life, and what he was missing.

She never brought up Courtney, and he never asked.

Then Gwen got into some arts college in the states, and Duncan tried his best to be happy for her. She still writes sometimes, but it's never enough to keep him from truly missing the company of someone that isn't family. He knows he deserves the loneliness considering how badly he had messed up their relationship on the island, and is grateful that she keeps in touch at all.

When he's run ten laps around the sad excuse for a track, he keels over and rests his arms on his knee for a moment, taking a few deep breaths. Lunch was served ten minutes ago, but he wasn't hungry for a flavorless sandwich or a sugar infused fruit cup. So he decides to try his luck in the recreation room and see if the television is free.

There are only three other inmates beside him in the room, and none were watching the television. He gives a small grin and goes to look for the remote, but it's nowhere to be found. Figures that the one day the television was free, he wouldn't be able to choose what to watch. Still, he has nothing better to do, so he picks a seat and stares blankly at the box before him.

He dozes off for a bit before a skinny twerp shakes him awake. "Look alive," he hisses. "Grant's coming this way." Duncan blinks, yawning for a moment before sitting up. Grant wasn't too bad compared to the rest of the officers, but if he caught him sleeping, he would lecture, and Duncan could do without a headache.

He keeps his eyes forward, staring at the television, not moving as the officer walks into the room. He loses sight of him in his peripheral vision and figures he's going to stand guard in the back when the hairs on the back of his neck prick, and he knows the officer is right behind him.

"You have a visitor."

Duncan raises his brow at the correction officer before leaning back in his chair and shifting his gaze back to the television.

"My Ma just visited on Sunday. She ain't due for another week."

"Doesn't change the fact that there's somebody waiting for you in the visiting room."

"Male or female?" If it was his dad, he was better off staying here, numbing his brain with the rest of the inmates. The last time his dad came to visit, he'd chewed him out so hard he had a migraine for a week.

"Female. She's been waiting for an hour."

Duncan thinks about it for a moment. The only people who visit him anymore are his parents, and once in a blue moon his brothers come around. It was probably a fan girl who had managed to weasel her way past security and was now foaming at the mouth, waiting for him. Or, in a worse scenario, a fangirl who thought she knew everything about his personal life, and demanded an explanation on why he toyed with Courtney or Gwen.

"Pass. I ain't in the mood for a crazy stalker."

"Don't get smart with me. It's your new lawyer. Cleared it with your parents."

Duncan's brow furrows. The parents his lawyer had hired was certainly not a female. He was a grumpy old man with a gut and a penchant for wearing suits that never fit. Why had they replaced him? His Ma never mentioned anything about going to trial again, and Duncan knew that no matter how hard she tried, even she wouldn't be able to lift his sentence. He was stuck in this shithole for two more years.

"Be there in five. Tell the broad I'm taking a whizz." The officer glares at him and doesn't move from his spot. "What, do ya want to escort me to the washroom?" Duncan doesn't wait for a response and brushes past him to the lavatory. Something seemed fishy about the whole thing, and he couldn't quite place his finger on it. Then again, he reminds himself that he was still waiting for the luck that the omniscient waffles promised to bring.

This could be good.

He killed some time in the washroom and didn't make eye contact with anyone, keeping his head down as he did his business and then washed his hands. He wasn't quick about it, and took his time. His 'lawyer' wouldn't be able to do anything that hadn't already been done, so he wasn't in any rush to meet her. He fixed his hair in the mirror, making sure it didn't look too unkempt; if it really was a lawyer, he had to make himself look presentable. When he was satisfied with his hair, Duncan looked at his watch and sighed. If he waited any longer and ended up missing this person, his Ma would kill him.

Upon entering the visiting room, he paused at the doorway, trying to find this so called lawyer of his. Some inmates were already talking to family and loved ones, but a lady sat alone at a table in the back, legs crossed and hands perched neatly on top of a thick maroon binder. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from running them through his hair and walked to the empty seat in front of her.

"You're late," she says tartly, not looking up from his file in her binder.

There's something familiar about her voice but Duncan can't quite put his finger on it.

"Sorry. They just came to get me."

"I don't like liars. The officer told me you were coming approximately twenty three minutes ago."

"Big fucking deal, I had to use the bathroom," Duncan muttered, already growing more frustrated by the second.

"Don't be vulgar, I would have preferred not hearing that. You haven't changed a single bit."

"The hell are you talking about? I've never seen you before in my life." The woman before him hums and closes the binder, looking up at him.

"If only that were true."

Duncan looks at her and all the blood drains out of his face and pools down to his stomach.

"Courtney.."

"In the flesh."

Damn those fucking waffles.

**A/N: Hey everybody. I know it has been a while, but I decided to sit down and write for a bit. I don't know what to expect for this story, it could be a minific, it could be multichapter, it just depends on what I feel like and readers' responses. **

**If this goes well, then I might consider going back to some of my other fics, such as The Untold Story, and Total Duncney Action. **

**As always, thank you for reading, and leave a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Courtney…"

"In the flesh."

"Holy fucking shit," Duncan groans, slumping his head into his hands. This was worse than any crazed fangirl stalking him. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you find me? And _why_?" he almost begs, unable to look at her.

Courtney scoffs, drumming her fingers against the binder. "I suppose you haven't gotten any better at listening these past few years. Your parole officer told you, I'm your new lawyer."

Duncan resigns his pity party with a final sigh, lifting his head and leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Can't be."

"Why? Because you're too poor to afford my services?" she spits, pursing her lips.

"No, because you're twenty one, and there's no way that you've already gotten a degree _and_ passed the bar exam, _and_ joined a law firm."

"Impressive deductive skills. I'm surprised your brain hasn't gone to complete mush while rotting away in here," Courtney notes, only mildly annoyed and yet intrigued at his response.

"So explain, now," Duncan insists, leaning forward, his eyes never wavering from hers. Courtney rolls her eyes, fanning herself as if it was too stuffy in the room. But Duncan knew better; she always did that when she was uncomfortable.

"I ran into your mother while running errands the other day," she says with a shrug. "We talked, got caught up. And when I told her I was taking my bar exam, she all but begged me to take a look into your file and see if there was anything I can do."

Duncan's eyes soften. His mother would have done just that; he saw the desolate look in her eyes every time she came to see him. The look had firmly planted itself the moment his father broke the news that they wouldn't be able to bail him out, and didn't show any sign of leaving in the near future.

"Is there anything you can do?"

"I've skimmed your case, in my spare time," Courtney says, opening the binder and pulling out some papers.

"Because God forbid you actually invest any of your precious time on something that has to do with me."

"For the sake of keeping things as peaceful as possible, I'm going to ignore that and move on." She pulls out a bottle of water from her purse and takes a swig before she continues. "The problem here isn't—"

"Why are you really here, Courtney?" Duncan interrupts. He doesn't believe that she would just suddenly drop everything for him of all people just to help him. For free, no less.

"I already told you—"

"No, I want the truth. The last time I saw you we weren't on good terms."

Courtney smiles, but Duncan knows her well enough to know it isn't her real one. They haven't spoken since he'd been arrested, and he'd originally thought that both of them were quite happy ignoring one another for the rest of their lives. But apparently that isn't the case.

"Good terms is saying it loosely. I still abhor you."

"Then why would you waste a second of your time helping me, huh?" Duncan snaps, raising his voice. When he finishes speaking he takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sorry.. Fuck, I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For yelling at you. I didn't mean to raise my voice."

"That's hardly something you need to apologize for," Courtney says, crossing her legs and clearing her throat. "If I remember correctly, we used to raise our voices at each other all the time."

"Things are different now."

"Indeed," Courtney hums, tucking a loose strand of hair back into its neatly coiffed place. "Look, I know things aren't perfect between us. But your mother.. is really worried about you. And I thought about rejecting this case, because as you pointed out, I still have a way to go before I'm officially a lawyer…" she trails off, looking down.

"Are you going somewhere with this?"

"I am, if you'd just let me finish," Courtney bites testily. "My father refuses to let me work at his law firm," she says, narrowing her eyes at Duncan. "Like you, he claims I'm not experienced enough. Which isn't true, considering I've been interning at his office every ear for the past six years." Courtney scowls, clenching her fists.

"I'm going to prove him wrong, and make him accept me as soon as I pass the bar exam."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"Simple," Courtney says with an all too familiar smirk. "I'm going to win your case and get you out of prison."

"Impossible," Duncan says with a roll of his eyes. "Ma's been trying for three years now. The guy my parents hired before you tried everything and the judge wouldn't even budge. I'm stuck in here for the next two years, Princess."

"I'm twenty one years old, Duncan. I wish you'd stop calling me that." Duncan waves her words off, resting his chin in his palms.

"Old habits die hard. Besides, it reminds me how much of an annoying bitch you used to be. And if my hunch is correct, you probably still are."

"If you don't want my help, and you want to spend the next two years in prison, be my guest," Courtney snarls. "I'm here out of the goodness in my own heart to help you."

Duncan laughs bitterly, and the sound makes Courtney cringe. She used to love his laugh, his _real_ laugh, but this isn't it. It isn't anything close. She can't help but wonder how much prison has really changed the man before her.

"You're here because your _Daddy_ won't take you seriously, so you're going to put my life in jeopardy to try and prove him wrong. Or is that not what you told me a minute ago?"

Courtney remains quiet for a moment.

"My intentions may not be entirely pure, but I'm not going to put your life in jeopardy," she says quietly.

"Despite everything that happened between us, we're adults now."

"That's mighty mature of ya, Courtney. But how do I know you wont fuck up my trial to get me stuck in here any longer?" Duncan asks, shaking his foot in a repetitive motion. He looks at the clock and bites his lip, knowing that visiting hours would be over soon.

"I wouldn't mess up your trial as a cruel way of getting back at you for things that are now done and over with," Courtney says calmly. Duncan looks for any hint of bluff or deceit but he can't find one. "You were my first love, and even though I shouldn't.. some part inside of me still cares for you. And seeing you rot away in prison doesn't make me happy," she admits. She had originally been happy when he was put away in prison, deeming it a suitable punishment for all the things he had done to her. But as the time past, she felt nothing. Three years in prison was long enough.

"That's a nice speech, Courtney," Duncan says bluntly. "But the fact of the matter is that you still can't get me out. I don't care how good you think you are, but this is something that even you can't do." He slumps in his chair and lets out a sigh. He is tired. So many times he had gotten his hopes up only to be let down. Duncan accepted the fact that he would be in jail for two more years.

"Then you don't know me at all," Courtney says with a smirk. "I've already figured out why you haven't gotten out before."

"You're bluffing."

"Am not. And because you have so little faith in me, I won't tell you. You'll just have to wait and see."

Duncan scoffs. "Good luck getting me another trial. The judge said he didn't want to see my face ever again."

"I have a different judge in mind. And stop doubting me, okay? I've got everything under control."

"Fine, fine," Duncan said with a roll of his eyes. "But don't be surprised if it all comes crashing down in your face, and don't say I didn't warn you."

"I won't."

"So… what have you been up to?"

Courtney laughs, putting the binder in her purse and shutting it tightly.

"Let's keep everything as professional as possible. Everything we should tell each other is on a need to know basis," she says, not unkindly. "Are you okay in here? Do you need anything."

"Need to know basis, Sweetheart. It's a two way street."

"I'm serious, Duncan. Do you need anything?"

"I've made it through three years without anyone's help, even yours. I'm fine, Courtney."

Courtney lets out a huff, crossing her arms. "I was only asking." She looks at the clock and clears her throat. "I should go. I have some more work to do."

"They're about to kick you out anyways, so be my guest," he says, straightening up. "But I have a question, and before you ask, yes, I need to know." He clears his throat, and an old version of his trademark smirk appears. "You didn't.. come back and take this whole mess on because you still have feelings for me, right?"

Duncan expected her to sputter, perhaps turn a shade of pink as she yelled at him and outrightly refused while calling him all sorts of calamities. It was something he was used to, and maybe he even looked forward to it a little bit. But Courtney gives him a weak smile and shakes her head.

"Not in the least. I'm just doing an old friend a favor."

"Good," Duncan says with a nod. "Just wanted to make sure you weren't still in love with me."

Courtney chuckles and stands. "You don't need to worry about that."

Duncan follows her lead, standing and clearing his throat. "Listen, thanks for… stopping by. It wasn't completely horrible. Even if this doesn't work out.. it was nice to see you. Sort of," he says with a short laugh.

"It'll work out, believe me."

"Then I guess you're going to have to prove me wrong."

"Don't I always?" she asks wryly.

Duncan looks at all the other visitors embracing each other and saying goodbye, and he clears his throat again, looking away. "We don't need to hug, right?"

"Please," Courtney says, rolling her eyes and sticking out her hand. "I'll be back. In the meantime, I have work to do."

Duncan smirks and shakes her hand, trying to avoid laughing at her. "She danes to touch the hand of an enemy. I'm astounded, Princess."

"Courtney," she emphasizes, glaring at him. "My name is Courtney."

"Tomato, tomahto. I gotta get going. I'm hungry."

"You're still letting your primal instincts rule you. How charming," she says. "I'll be in touch." She turns on her heels and clacks away without another word. Duncan smiles to himself, shaking her head.

She could try, but he knows she wouldn't succeed.

Then again, it _is_ Courtney.

**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed~ As always, rate and review!**


End file.
